


(>|~

by BurglarFerret



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Gen, Movie-verse with some add ons, Not Beta read all mistakes mine, OFC so if you aren't a fan don't read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 11:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurglarFerret/pseuds/BurglarFerret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So its time for another round of crazy fic goodness. This time, its Dwalin's turn to get a lady friend. If it turns out to be anything like my last one (Bofur and Summer) I'll be writing long after Desolation comes out.  Hope you all enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Arrival...

**Author's Note:**

> -No title as of yet. I'm bad with those  
> -Movie Verse, with the addition of an OFC.  
> -Things will get more...interesting later, but for now I'm doing world building, character interactions and suchlike.  
> -Unbetaed, so mistakes are mine.

Dwalin, son of Fundin, was exasperated. Really, of all people, Fili and Kili should know better than to be cracking jokes about Orcs and night raids. Some things were not funny; Orcs were one of them. Balin, ever the diplomat, had stepped in and smoothed things over, turning the incident into a learning experience with his retelling of the Battle of Azanulbizar. Thorin's bravery never failed to amaze Dwalin, even after all these years.  
And then, of course, the hobbit had to go and open his mouth. 

"The Pale Orc?" asked Bilbo when Balin had finished telling his tale. Dwalin snorted; leave it to Bilbo to show concern for something as evil as an Orc. "What happened to him?"

Thorin snorted, stepping around a rock outcrop as he walked closer to the fire. "He slunk back into the hole from whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago." He sat down on a log, his expression and posture making clear that he would answer no more questions. Dwalin moved to take a seat next to him, thinking to make some offhand remark or otherwise distract his king from the unpleasant memories brought to the surface. But a random shout from out in the darkness took care of that.

"Halloooo!" came the voice again, rough and raspy as the caw of a crow. "Hallo the fire! I mean no harm." Thorin was on his feet in an instant, axe upraised. Dwalin spun around, eyes searching the darkness. The rest of the Company was in similar form-everyone was up, weapons in hand.

"Show yourself!" Thorin shouted.

"I'm over here by this spindly little pine tree." That wasn't really a great deal of help, since there were a great many spindly little pine trees about, but Dwalin had narrowed down the direction. He turned left, and yes indeed, there was a figure standing next to a smallish pine tree. Short and slim, with hands upraised-one of which held a smallish looking axe. "Please don't shoot; I've all ready said I mean no harm." This last sentence was apparently directed at Kili, who had an arrow nocked and half drawn.

"Put your weapon down then." said Kili, not taking his eyes off the figure.

"Are you fellows really afraid of a worn out traveller armed with half an axe?" the dry voice had an edge of amusement to it now.

"No, but we don't believe in taking chances." said Fili, throwing axe upraised.

"Fair enough." the voice was still amused. The figure turned sideways to a nearby boulder, and when it straightened back around, both hands were empty. "Perhaps you'd like me to disrobe so you may search me properly?"

"That's hardly necessary." Thorin sounded annoyed at being mocked. "Step into the light." he ordered. Hands still upraised, the figure came foreward, walking into the flickering light thrown by the fire.

"Durin's Beard!" Dwalin heard Gloin swear in shock as the light revealed the fine facial features of a human woman. Dwalin was aghast as well, but he kept his astonishment to himself. Now that she was closer, he gave her a quick once-over, looking to see if she had any more weapons on her person. Slim she indeed was, but with the wiry muscling of a hunting hound. She had a dirty face and limbs, hard worn clothing and boots, and long messy hair the color of mud. Looking around at all of them, she offered a conciliatory smile.

"As I said, I mean no harm. And even if I did, I rather doubt my chances." she said. Frowning, she continued to peer left and right with the air of someone who was searching for something. 

"Lost something?" Dwalin asked. Not that he cared overmuch, but he didn't like the wench spying about their camp for any weaknesses.

"Oh, ah, no actually." she said, turning her gaze on him. Eyes the same muddy color as her hair; quick, calculating and wary. "But I could have sworn I'd seen Gandalf the Grey as part of your party. Was I mistaken?" 

"No actually." piped up Bilbo from the back. "He's off seeing to his horse." From the corner of his eye, Dwalin saw Thorin grit his teeth and roll his eyes. Should she turn out to be an enemy (and in his mind, she was until proven otherwise), Bilbo's revelation of the wizard's whereabouts had just spoiled any chance of surprise they might have had. 

"Oh good." said the woman, sounding relieved. "He's an old friend. If you care to fetch him, he can tell you that I really am as harmless as I say." Thorin looked over at Dwalin, a question held in the glance. Dwalin shrugged with his eyebrows.

"Very well." said Thorin, not lowering his axe. "Dori, go and fetch the wizard. You," he pointed his axe at the woman, then gestured at a stump, "sit." Obediently, she stepped around the piece of wood and seated herself, hands still upraised. Dwalin stepped up behind her, warhammer still half upraised. One word or nod from Thorin and he would smash her skull in before she could turn around. 

"Well," she said after a long moment of silence "is no one going to offer the lady a drink?" 

"Rather doubt you're much of a lady." growled Dwalin. Truthfully, he had no real reason to insult her, other than that she annoyed him. She turned and gave him a reproachful look over her shoulder; he glared at her in return. 

"Well someone hasn't been getting their beauty sleep." she muttered, turning back around. Nori's mouth twitched, so did Bofur's. Fili and Kili, however, were less restrained; Fili cracked a smile and Kili actually giggled. 

"I like her mouth." he said quietly to his brother. Not quietly enough though. Dwalin's prisoner leaned foreward; she'd heard him.

"Do you now?" she said. "Do you like everything that comes with it? I've been known to crack bones with these teeth." Her tone was still amused, and Dwalin grudgingly admitted to himself that he might have a grain of admiration for her. Many in her position would likely be pleading for their lives; she was cracking jokes. 

"Quiet." he growled, giving her a nudge in the back with the butt end of his hammer which earned him another look from her.

"Is he always so nice to guests?" she asked no one in particular.

"You're not a guest, you're a prisoner." Thorin's voice had an edge of steel to it. "And Dwalin is being quite nice; you're still in once piece, are you not?"

"Is that how you measure hospitality?" the prisoner said with a chuckle, "By the lack of beating?"

"We could give you a thrashing if it would make you feel more welcome." Fili said with a smile that was equal parts glee and threat.

"No one is going to be thrashing anyone if I have anything to say about it!" piped up the hobbit as he elbowed his way through the ring of weapons encircling the woman, a pewter cup in one hand. "Here you are." 

"Well!" the woman sounded rather pleased as she took the proffered drink. "At least someone remembers their manners." Dwalin snorted quietly and glanced over to Thorin, who was looking angrier by the minute. Perhaps he should just brain the wench and be done with it. She was spared, however, when Dori's shout heralded his and Gandalf's approach.

"Well now Master Dori, this doesn't look so bad." said the wizard as he strode up to camp. "Everything looks to be well in hand."

"We have an unwelcome visitor." said Thorin, ignoring Gandalf's joking tone. "She says she knows you."

"Really now?" Gandalf walked around in front of the woman; when she looked up at him Dwalin could see surprise register on his bearded face. "Jera?" he said in a slightly disbelieving tone.

"So you do know her." Thorin's sounded displeased. If she was a friend of the wizard's they would probably have to keep her around. She'd be another drain on their supplies, probably whinging about every little thing, and no use at all if they should get into a fight.

"I do indeed." said Gandalf, crouching down so he was at eye level with her. "I know her to be very far from home. Very far."


	2. In Which Jera Begins to Make Friends...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out a little more about Jera. Only a little, mind you.

"So you do know her." Thorin's sounded displeased. If she was a friend of the wizard's they would probably have to keep her around. She'd be another drain on their supplies, probably whinging about every little thing, and no use at all if they should get into a fight.

"I do indeed." said Gandalf, crouching down so he was at eye level with her. "I know her to be very far from home. Very far."

"Home was razed and burnt at the beginning of summer." said the woman. Jera? Was that what he'd called her? "Been wandering ever since." Dwalin felt a tiny twinge of pity which he could not entirely suffocate.

"Your mother?" the wizard asked, placing a hand gently on her knee. Jera shook her head.

"Dead. Shot twice through the chest." A grim half smile played around her lips for a second, and then she added. "She had one of our fishing spears in hand when they killed her, so she meant to make a fight of it."

"When who killed her?" Thorin asked. If she was being hunted by someone or something, then they'd be driving her off, pity or no.

"Orcs, most likely." Jera said. "But they threw her body into the fire, so I have no arrows or anything as proof." Dwalin watched as Thorin tilted his head, measuring her. Judging her.

"Why would they be after you?" he finally asked her. Dwalin was curious about this as well; she certainly didn't appear to be anything special. Mouthy and irritating, certainly, but nothing deserving of being singled out.

"I don't think they were." she replied meeting Thorin's gaze. "I'd never have lasted as long as I have if they were activly hunting me."

"True enough." said Fili. He'd lowered his axe by now, and was no longer glowering at their visitor. "Orcs don't need an excuse to be cruel."

"Sounds to me like a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time." said their burglar. "However did you manage....I mean...if its not too painful to recall...." He was dithering now, wringing his hands and looking at the ground.

"Its all right." Jera said, the tone of her voice softening. "The only reason I'm alive is because I was out gathering wood. I can use a spear and swing an axe, but I'm no match for a bunch of Orcs. Or Dwarves." she added, some of her previous sarcasam creeping in. Gandalf shot a look at Thorin, who rolled his eyes and motioned for Dwalin to let her up. He lowered his hammer and returned to Thorin's side, leaving their visitor (he didn't imagine he could refer to her as a prisoner anymore) to converse with the rest of the Company.

"She will be more nuisance then asset." Thorin murmured, looking over at him. Dwalin shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"I imagine so." he said, resting his hammer nearby. "But we would be worse than Orcs if we abandoned her to the Wild. Besides," he added with a ghost of a smile, "she'll keep the halfling occupied." He cast a look back at the fire; Bilbo was all ready fussing over her. He'd badgered a rag and some water from someone and was busy scrubbing her face like a mother with a grubby child.

"If he keeps that up, she might leave of her own accord." He added and Thorin snorted a quiet chuckle.

+++++

"Honestly Jera, I don't know how...did you lie down and roll around in the mud?" the hobbit muttered as he scrubbed her face. He had to be a hobbit; he certainly wasn't a dwarf. Not an elf either-they were taller and didn't have hairy feet.

"No. Not recently anyways." she said, doing her best to keep still. "There just isn't much water sometimes. So what I can find I use for drinking, not washing." Having enough water for both was a luxury she seldom had. Truthfully, having water just to drink was hard to come by; with nothing to carry it in, she drank as much as she could when and where she found it.

"I suppose that's an acceptable reason." said the hobbit, rubbing at what must be a particularly stubborn spot on her forehead. He stopped and tilted his head. "Your voice is still hoarse. Do you need another drink?"

"That would be very kind, if you can spare it." she said, giving him a warm smile. The hobbit flapped a hand in a "no trouble at all" gesture as he went over to one of the dwarves-one with a long white beard that curled up at the ends. The hobbit conferred with him for a moment, then the dwarf turned around and picked up a leather covered canteen from behind the log he was sitting on. But instead of handing it to the hobbit, he got up and they both ambled back over to her.  
"Bilbo tells me your throat's still a bit dry." said the dwarf, pouring her some water and extending it with a kind smile.

"Yes, thank you." Jera said, taking it and drinking a few swallows. "Thank you very much." She hadn't had but a few dribbles of water since noon, so she didn't dare drink too fast lest she make herself sick.

"You're quite welcome lassie." said the dwarf, seating himself on a rock. "So, if you don't mind my asking, how do you know our grey wizard?" Jera took another sip of water, buying herself half a second, before answering.

"He's stayed with us-Mother and I-a few times when his wanderings brought him near our doorstep. He was always welcome-as soon as I spied that hat of his, I'd tell Mother and she'd send me out to the river to spear more fish. She'd season them with lemongrass, wrap them up in leaves and put them in the coals to bake. After supper we would sit up late into the evening as he told us news and gossip from his travels." The dwarf nodded.

"Aye. I would imagine that more than a few know Gandalf like that. He's done a lot of travelling." he said. He tilted his head a bit, appearing to look past her, just over her shoulder. "Hello lads!" he said, raising his bushy eyebrows. "Come to say a proper hello to our guest?" Jera half turned; two more dwarves were approaching-the pair with the axe and the bow from earlier.

"Actually, we've come to apologize." said the blonde dwarf, sitting down on her left.

"Bad manners to threaten someone who's not very threatening themselves." said the darker one, taking a seat on her right.

"Oh, no need to apologize really." Jera said, looking back and forth between the two. "Surprising an armed camp is never a good idea. I daresay I'm lucky I wasn't shot on sight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> +Ohmigawd you guys, I seriously meant to update this weekly. But house shopping sucks and takes a lot of time. So does packing. Buuut, the offer got turned down, so back to just looking.  
> +Got a title! Its the closest thing I can get to a spiked axe, since we're all about axes in this story.   
> +As always, thanks for reading!


	3. Introductions Are In Order!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jera gets to play the name game. Thorin and Dwalin muse a bit about their newest comrade. Fili and Kili make jokes.

"Well, this should be interesting." Dwalin said to Thorin as he watched the two princes converse with the newcomer from the corner of his eye.  
  
"Are they trying to make friends with her all ready?" Thorin asked in a bemused tone.  
  
"Aye." Dwalin replied. "They're going about it all wrong. They threatened her with severe bodily harm not too long ago. Her guard will still be up and they'll not learn a thing." He'd seen them do this before. Fili and Kili would talk to an unsuspecting someone, nattering back and forth like they did. Being friendly, asking questions, making jokes. When they did it properly, they could learn more about a person in an hour of seemingly meaningless chatter than he himself could get with glares and threats. Which was why Thorin had sent the pair over with a discreet nod. He didn't trust her entirely. If she was indeed just a harmless wanderer, then no harm was done. If, however, she had some darker purpose...well, there was plenty harm he could do.  
  
"Still," he said, lacing his fingers together and leaning back against a tree, "if she's a friend of the wizard's, she's likely not bad news." He himself was reevaluating his opinion of the woman; currently he'd demoted her from threat to annoyance. Not anyone to be particularly concerned over in terms of damage she might do. Thorin sat up and cocked an eyebrow at his old friend.  
  
"The halfling is a friend of the wizard's as well." he countered. Dwalin chuckled.  
  
"True. And look how menacing he is." Thorin cast a look over at Bilbo; the halfling had finished scrubbing the woman's face and was currently occupied with trying to comb out her hair...without much success. The look of frusteration on his face was comical.  
  
"Aye, he's not harmful." admitted Thorin, conceding the point. "But he is a nuisance. And," he added, "she's a drain on supplies that we can ill afford."  
  
"Game is plentiful right now." Dwalin countered. "And really, I don't think we want to piss off Gandalf by sending her away." Dwalin knew Thorin wasn't reconsidering his decision to keep her around. All the talking in circles was simply him making sure he'd done the right thing. It had been the same when when the quest to retake the Mountain had begun; he and Thorin would sit up late at night over ale with Thorin agonizing over every detail. Dwalin would reassure him, they would finish their ale and go to bed and the cycle would repeat itself the next evening.  
  
"I don't actually care if I anger the wizard or not." Thorin said, "But it might be nice to not have the Halfling bothering about something all the time."  
  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
"All right." said Jera, counting off on her fingers. "Bilbo, Balin." she nodded at the hobbit and the white haired dwarf. "Fili and Kili." The two younger ones.  
  
"I'm Fili, actually." said the blonde one. "He's Kili." He pointed at the dark one. Jera nodded, frowning in concentration.  
  
"All right, all right. Give me a moment." she started over. "Bilbo, Balin, Kili, Fili," she recited, correctly identifying the pair. "So, who else?"  
  
"Bofur is the one with the floppy hat. He's very kind." said Bilbo, waving at the dwarf stoking the fire. Bofur waved back cheerfully.  
  
"Bifur and Bombur are his brothers." said Fili. "Bifur is the one with the axe in his head."  
  
"AXE IN...what are you talking about?" Jera was horrified. How in the name of all that was holy did someone survive such a thing?  
  
"Its a very old injury." explained Balin. "And it really doesn't affect him all that much, other than that his Common Speech is gone. He'll understand you just fine if you speak to him, but he'll answer in Khuzdul, so you might need to ask one of us to translate."  
  
"What's Khuzdul?" Jera was feeling mildly overwhelmed, but if she was going to be travelling with this bunch, she had better get familiar with them.  
  
"Our language." replied Fili (at least she was pretty sure it was Fili.) "Older than the mountains, and nigh impossible to understand unless you know it from birth."  
  
"Well all right then." Jera said. "If I need to be talking to....Bifur? Its Bifur, right?" She looked around; everyone was nodding. "If I need to talk with him, I'll bring someone else with." She started counting on her fingers again. "Bilbo, Balin. Fili and Kili. Bofur and Bifur and....Bommer?"  
  
"Bombur. You're close." said Bilbo. "He's the big fellow with the circular beard." he sketched a circle in the air with his finger. "Excellent cook."  
Jera soon learned that it was easiest to remember her new companions' names in sets. Often they started with the same letter-as with Bifur and Bofur and Bombur-or they rhymed, as with the three brothers Dori, Nori and Ori. Or they had some very distinguishing characteristic.  
  
"What about the big fellow with the skull crusher?" she indicated the bald dwarf across the campsite. "I get the feeling that if I take a wrong step I might end up begging for my life and I'd like to be able to address him properly."  
  
"That's Dwalin." said Balin, a merry twinkle in his eyes. "My younger brother, actually." Jera did her very best to not look flabbergasted. Judging by the gleeful grins on Fili and Kili's faces, she was failing spectacularly. "And you needn't worry overmuch about angering him. He's decided you aren't a threat, so he'll leave you be."  
  
"How...how do you know he's decided that?" Jera asked. She would dearly love to know how to stay on the giant warrior's good side.  
  
"You're still alive." Balin said with a good natured chuckle. Jera laughed along with him, but all the same, she got the feeling that it wasn't entirely a joke.  
  
"And the fellow next to him? The one that appears equally displeased with me?" Jera asked.  
  
"That's our Uncle Thorin." said Fili. "And don't worry, he's like that with everyone." Jera glanced at Bilbo, who was nodding vigorously in agreement.  
  
"Well then I suppose I should feel rather welcome, seeing as how I'm being treated like everyone else." she said, offering the hobbit a grin. "Although I rather hope that doesn't extend to bathing arrangements." she added as an afterthought.  
  
"Why not?" exclaimed Kili. "We're very good help!"  
  
"I'm an adult and I am quite capable of bathing myself." Jera said with a snort. The pair looked rather crestfallen, the blonde one even going so far as to pout a bit as they followed Balin back to the campfire after bidding her a good evening. "Are they always so..." she asked Bilbo, making meaningless gestures in the air.  
  
"Oh my goodness, yes." said the hobbit, "Though Balin and Dori and Thorin are usually more reserved, and Ori's a bit shy. And nobody's brave enough to tease Dwalin or Gloin."  
  
"With the red hair and beads in his beard, right?" Jera said, trying out her memorization tricks.  
  
"Yes." said Bilbo. "That's him."


	4. Now That We're All Friends...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone is friends! Well...sort of. Nori snarks a bit, Bilbo wrings his hands, and Dwalin is a grumpass.

"And I think I should remember who Dwalin is until I fall down dead." Jera added. And she meant it. The fierce look in the warrior's eyes flickered in the back of her mind, even now. Trying to make friends with him might well turn out like that time she had tried to befriend the barn cat; a snarl, a swat and a fair amount of blood on her part. Although, if she was truthful with herself, she had eventually made friends with the animal. With a lot of work, she'd even gotten him to purr when she scratched between his shoulder blades. Jera stilfed a laugh. She wasn't sure which was funnier: Dwalin purring or the idea of her scratching between his shoulder blades to get him to do so.  


"Something funny?" Bilbo inquired. Mildly embarrased at being caught, Jera straightened her face.  


"Erm, no. Not...nope. Just an old memory." she said, standing up. "I'm going to go fetch my axe. My hands feel strange not holding it." Bilbo nodded; he'd dug a needle and thread out of his pack and was busily mending a nick in his jacket. Jera felt a pang as she paced through the camp; she couldn't remember the last time she'd thought about mending anything. Sighing, she picked up her axe; she'd dug it from the ruins of the small house she and her mother lived in. Its scorched handle was broken off halfway down its length, the spiked head was blackened and nicked in places. It would certainly look out of place amongst the well cared for weapons of her new travelling companions, but it was the only thing she had saved from the burned wreckage of her old life and she would no more part with it then she would cut off her own hand.  


"Going to chop down some saplings?" teased the dwarf with the outlandish, pointed hair. What was his name? Nordi? Nori, that was it.  


"Going to go to sleep, unless anyone objects." she said with a crooked smile. She wasn't sure if he was teasing nicely or out of malice, so she decided to treat it as friendly teasing and hope for the best. The dwarf raised an eyebrow.  


"You take your axe to bed?" he said in a slightly amused tone. Jera nodded, sitting down and leaning back against a rock.  


"I do indeed." she said, laying it across her chest, one hand still wrapped loosley around the shattered handle.  


"Have to remember to use a stick to poke you awake then." He offered a toothy smile. "To stay out of reach."  
+++++  


As it turned out, Nori wasn't joking. Fili woke her for breakfast the next morning, bringing her out of sleep with the insistant poking of a tree branch to her arm. She opened her eyes and he greeted her with a cheery smile.  


"Good morning." he said, laying aside his branch.  


"Good morning." she replied, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Over his shoulder, Nori waved insolently. Picking up her axe, Jera got the feeling she might well be the butt of more than a few jokes. Which, truthfully, didn't really bother her. She had been alone for quite some time, and cheerful company would be most welcome. As would their breakfast. "Do I smell sausages?"  


"You do indeed." said the dwarf with the funny hat. Blo..no, Bofur. "You like them?"  


"I think I do. Its been so long since I had one that I really can't remember." she replied as she strode over and sat down amongst them. Bilbo was just on her left, the young dwarf with the quills was on her right. She leaned her axe against her tree stump seat and accepted a bowl of hearty looking stew (with a couple of sausages in it) from Boomer...Bombur. Picking up the fork, she speared a sausage and took a bite. Salty, spicy, chewy and warm to the point of hot.  


"What...what do you usually have for breakfast, Jera?" Bilbo asked, clearly unable to imagine going without such a typical staple.  


"Whatever I can catch." Jera replied. "A well aimed rock will bring down a hare or a slow, fat bird. If I'm near to a river, I might sharpen myself a spear and try to fish. If there's nothing like that around, its green plants."  


"That sounds unpleaseant." said the dwarf scribe. Ori, that sounded right.  


"Oh they are. Most taste dreadful, but when the alternative is hunger, you learn to get by that." said Jera. "There have been times I wonder if I'm not turning into some kind of sheep I've had to eat so many plants." Ori shuddered.  
++++++++++++  


Dwalin watched Jera's interactions with the rest of the company from the corner of his eye as he repacked his bedroll. She appeared to be getting on all right: trying to be helpful, doing her best to stay out of the way. She'd made quick friends of Ori and Bofur and Bilbo as well as Fili and Kili.  


"She may yet prove to be more of an asset than you think." said Gandalf, throwing his saddle onto his horse. Thorin grunted something noncommital as he tightened the cinch on his own animal. Checking the fastenings on his own tack made Dwalin think of something.  


"Are you going to make the woman walk?" he asked Thorin quietly. His friend looked up at him, and Dwalin could have sworn there was something akin to apology in his eyes.  


"No." he said, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been a ghost of a smile. "She will have to ride with you." Dwalin huffed in annoyance, but he could see the wisdom in Thorin's decision. His pony was by far the sturdiest and would take the extra weight eaisly. He was also one of the better riders in the company, so should his animal take issue with another pair of feet kicking at its flanks, he would be able to keep it under control rather than running amok. But still...  


"This is not funny." he fumed. Thorin still didn't smile, but his eyes twinkled.  


"It is a little funny." he said, clapping Dwalin on the shoulder. "Come. It will not be any worse than looking after Fili and Kili when they were young." Dwalin sighed and gave Thorin a halfhearted glare from under his bushy eyebrows.  


"Jera." he called, turning to look for her amongst the bustling members of the company. Across camp, he saw her head come up and look around, not unlike a surprised fox or dog. "You ride with me." Her eyes fastened onto him at the words, and he summoned her with a jerk of his head.


	5. Off We Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are spear and hammer jokes. Jera is mouthy, Fili and Kili (with a side of Bofur and Bifur) are acting like high schoolers, and Dwalin is still a grumpass.

Jera looked helplessly from Fili to Bilbo to Kili. The two dwarf brothers shrugged.  
  
"He won't bite." whispered Kili as they went to tie their packs to their own ponies. Bilbo said nothing, but offered her a sympathetic pat on the arm. With a mental sigh, she picked up her axe and went over to Dwalin. He wasn't exactly glowering at her, but neither was there the warm, friendly look in those dark eyes that she got from Bilbo or the others.  
  
"Get on." he said gruffly, swinging into the saddle. Grabbing the cantle and putting a foot into the sturrip, Jera swung up behind him.  
  
"Good morning to you to." she shot back. Dwalin couldn't fully turn around to glare at her, but that didn't stop him from throwing a dirty look over his shoulder as he nudged the pony into a walk.  
Jera soon found out, much to her happiness, that she wasn't entirely abandoned by her new friends. Fili and Kili didn't seem to be very cowed by Dwalin's presence; in fact they seemed to take an inordinate amount of glee in needling him. For his part, the burly warrior dwarf ignored the pair with practiced ease. But, sooner or later they would be summoned foreward by Thorin and Jera was left to stare at the axes slung across Dwalin's broad shoulders. Being of Dwarvish make, they were quite different than the battered tool currently clutched in her right hand. And they were designed for killing foes, not chopping trees. Jera leaned back a bit to properly see them; judging by the numerous nicks and scars on the hafts and heads, they had killed numerous foes indeed. But there were more markings on them than battle scars. Each head was engraved in Dwarvish with...well, she couldn't read the script.  
  
"Wonder what it says." she muttered to herself.  
  
"Eh?" Dwalin cast a glance back over his shoulder. "What're you going on about now?"  
  
"Oh," said Jera, mildly chagrined at being caught. Being so used to being alone, she didn't bother to keep her thoughts to herself. "I just your axes have writing on them, and I wondered what it says." Dwalin grunted noncommitally and turned back to face foreward.  
  
"Ukhlat. Umraz." he indicated each one. "Common Tongue translates to Grasper and Keeper." Jera pondered this new information in silence. She knew of weapons with names; every hero in every legend had a mighty weapon, and it was never called just "sword" or "spear." She glanced at the twin axe heads again, then down at her own humble tool. Was she embarking on a journey that would earn it a name of its own? What would she call it? Maybe she should have the name engraved on it, like...  
  
"Is that really all you've gotten by with since the beginning of summer?" Dwalin's voice intruded on her thoughts.  
  
"I had a knife at the beginning as well." she said, mildly surprised that he was the one doing the asking. "But it broke after a couple weeks. It was a kitchen knife, not a very strong one, so it was no surprise. And I've made fishing spears sometimes, but they weren't really good enough that I want to keep them. I usually broke them up for kindling."  
  
"Well, you could have certainly done worse than an axe." the warrior replied. Jera nodded, then remembered he couldn't see her.  
  
"Indeed." she agreed. "I hate to think what might have happened if I'd been left with a bow or something."  
  
"Here now!" Kili's strident voice came back from ahead of them. If she tilted her head to the side, Jera could see him looking back over his shoulder at her. Of course, he was wearing a toothy, teasing smile. "What's wrong with a bow?"  
  
"Nothing. Nothing at all!" Jera called back to him. "I just don't have the eyesight to use one properly. By the time I'm close enough to a target to hit it, I might as well just throw a spear and be done with it."  
  
"So you're fond of spears?" that sounded like Fili. Leaning to the other side to see better, Jera could see the blonde looking back, an expectant expression on his face.  
  
"I am." she replied, pleased that she was remembering who was who.  
  
"Do you use very many at a time, or just one?" Kili asked. Jera leaned back to the other side, ignoring Dwalin's annoyed huff.  
  
"Usually I have three or four smaller ones to throw first, and a larger, heavier one to finish the job." She would have said more, but Fili spluttered into a fit of laughter, quickly joined by Kili. Frowning, Jera rethought her words, wondering what she might have said....  
  
"Oh...spear jokes." Jera smacked her face with the palm of her hand.  
  
"Three or four....my goodness...that's a lot of spears." Kili cackled.  
  
"And then a large one to finish things!" Fili added gleefully. Jera heaved a long suffering sigh; really, she should've see it coming.  
  
"Yes. And usually I'm very tired afterwards." she added. It wasn't going to go away now, so she might as well own it.  
+++++  
  
Dwalin listened to Jera and the princes' jokes descend further into ribaldry and shook his head. She was turning out to be not much of a shrinking violet. Which was a good thing; if she was going to be travelling with the Company, she would have to have more than a little nerve. However, it was annoying that she had to be so loud about it. Currently, she was getting into it with Bofur. Well, Bifur actually, by way of Bofur translating.  
  
"My brother says he has a fine spear that you're welcome to use whenever you like." the miner said cheerfully, gesturing to his sibling.  
  
"I thank you very much, Master Bifur." Jera called. Dwalin could hear the humor coloring her voice. "But I'm afraid your spear is too large for someone like myself. Its enormous, in fact!" Hoots and catcalls sounded from various points in the group.  
  
"You realize you're digging yourself quite a deep hole." he said over his shoulder. Perhaps she'd take the hint.  
  
"What's the matter?" there was a teasing tone to her words. "You jealous because I don't like hammers?" Dwalin snorted.  
  
"Lass, if Bifur's spear is too big for you, you wouldn't even come close to handling my hammer." he said. He really shouldn't have taken the bait and said it, but sometimes his mouth got ahead of his brain. And of course Nori was in earshot and relayed it to everyone else.  
  
"Jera, you might have bitten off more than you can chew if you're eyeballing Dwalin's hammer." Kili called back to her.  
  
"Oh, so I'm to bite it now?" she said. Dwalin ground his teeth and fumed. He really didn't want to get drug into this. Thankfully, salvation came in the form of Ori and Dori; a single stern glance from the overprotective older dwarf served to change the topic to something less lacivious. And as he was not particularly interested in knitting patterns, Dwalin let his attention drift, paying only half an ear to the conversation. Or rather, he tried to. Unfortunately, Jera's loud, brash voice kept him from completly ignoring things. He supposed part of the problem was that she was sitting right behind him. The other part, however, was that she simply wasn't quiet or soft spoken. Her voice had evened out from the previous night's croak into a smoother sounding tenor, low pitched for a woman. Dwalin sighed mentally. At least she didn't speak in a high pitched squeak.  



	6. Travelling...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jera and her new friends travel. Dwalin gets a rest from Jera's pestering. Ori makes a friend. Jera discovers that she dislikes horseback riding. Fili and Kili are full of questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to do my very best to keep to some kind of schedule (Seven to ten days between updates, real life permitting) between this one and my other one- _Its The Thought That Counts-13 Gifts For 13 Dwarves_. This week, its Dwalin and Jera's turn for an update.

When midday arrived and Thorin called a halt, Jera was very happy to slide off the backside of Dwalin's pony. Not that he had been bad company; he'd tolerated the teasing and jesting about as well as she had thought his dour temperment would allow him to. Not that there was a great deal directed in his direction; most was aimed at her. She liked to give as well as she got, so naturally she replied in kind, and a little bit of it got blown his way. No, the reason she was so happy to put her feet on the ground was that she'd never ridden a horse before in her life and by the gods were her legs sore! And they'd only been going for half the day! She sat down on a rock and rubbed the inside of her right knee. There was a sore spot there that was bound to get worse, and never mind the ache in her thighs that came from gripping the middle of a pony.  


"It will fade." Jera looked up at the sound of Bilbo's voice. The hobbit was holding out an apple with an understanding smile.  


"Aye, but will I still be able to walk in the meantime?" she replied, taking the proffered fruit with a smile of her own.  


"More of a hobble, actually." admitted Bilbo, stitting next to her when she gestured. Jera chuckled.  


"Then I hope we don't have to run away from anything. I would never make it." she said, biting into her apple.  


"I don't believe there is anything to fear." said Bilbo, nibbling on his own fruit. "Believe it or not, we are actually travelling with some degree of stealth."  


"No, I do not think I believe it." Jera said with a snort. Bilbo joined her in her quiet laughter.  


"All right, fair enough." he said. "Say then, you will not have to run away from anything because who would attack such a well armed group?" Jera had to concede the point there. With the exception of Ori and Bombur and perhaps Dori, every last one of her travelling companions looked as fierce as a winter wolf.  


The midday meal was taken in somewhat of a hurry. A bite of fruit, a hunk of bread and cheese and they were off again. This time, Jera was put behind Ori, the bashful scholar. He stammered a polite hello as she swung up behind him. Jera offered a sincere smile and a hello in return. Picking on big burly cranky Dwalin was one thing, but she wasn't about to turn her barbs on Ori. She was cheeky and annoying, but she was not mean. So instead of staring at leather harness and weapons, she found herself studying the fine, straight stitches of Ori's clothes and scarves. 

"My word, that must have taken hours." she murmured, following the length of knitted yarn around Ori's neck.  


"Qute a few, yes. But its little more than busy work once you get going. Keeping track of how many stitches really." Ori replied over his shoulder. Jera mentally snorted at herself. This was the second time she had spoken aloud without realizing it. Then her mind caught up with everything that Ori had just said.  


"Qute a few...but that means then...that you made this?" she asked, interest coloring her voice. She honestly knew very little about Dwarves, and what little she did know usually cast them as smiths or masons. She'd figured Balin as a lore keeper of some type, and Ori as his apprentice-hence the parchment and quills.  


"I did, yes." Ori sounded ratherpleased. "Its one of my favorites. Alpaca wool instead of sheep, so its softer and doesn't itch so." Jera smiled and fiddled with one of the end fringes.  


"It is very soft." she agreed. "Mother and I only ever had sheep, so all our yarn was very coarse. I hated it when winter came and the weather turned cold and I had to put on all those heavy, itchy clothes."  


"You were a shepherdess then, Jera?" Bilbo asked from her right.  


"I was indeed." she replied. "A small flock of sheep and a couple of milk goats. I would drive them out to the hillsides every morning to graze and bring them back to the pens every evening."  


"That sounds so peaceful and lovely." sighed Bilbo. Jera looked over at him with a crooked smile.  


"Most of the time yes." she said. "Unless the wolves were hungry or there was a lion about. " Bilbo looked a little alarmed at the idea of large predators wandering through his mental image of an idyllic landscape, but he didn't get a chance to ask about it further.  


"A lion?" asked Kili, riding up on her left side. "Did you ever kill one?" Jera turned around to face him properly.  


"No, actually." she said. "In fact, I never even saw one. The closest I got was seeing some tracks. Mother and I kept the flock close for a week before we decided it was safe to let them venture further out."  


"Wolves?" said Fili, riding up behind his brother. Jera looked back over her shoulder and nodded.  


"Aye, I've killed half a dozen wolves in defense of my sheep." she said. Fili's eyebrows went up.  


"Really?" he sounded a little surprised. "How?"  


"Spears if I can mange it. One or two throwing spears will cripple one enough that I can get close and put an end to it. Although two of them I had to corner in some rocks and kill the hard way."  


"What..what's the hard way?" Bilbo asked. He didn't sound quite sure if he wanted to know or not. Jera turned her head back to look over at him.  


"With this." she said, lifting her broken off axe a little. "In tight quarters, any spear heavy enough to do real damage would be too large to wield properly."  


"So why not wound it with smaller spears and kill it with a larger one like out in the open?" Kili asked. Jera shook her head.  


"Because a wounded wolf is an angry wolf and I do not want to be near an angry wolf if I cannot get away." she said.  


"But why wouldn't you...oh yes. Tight quarters." Kili corrected himself. Jera smiled indulgently.  


"Yes. Tight quarters. A great heavy thrusting spear does you no good if you cannot use it. But an axe...heavy enough to do a great deal of damage, short enough to swing in a small space." Her smile widened. "But I don't imagine I need to tell any of you that."


	7. Suppertime!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin broods a bit more and Dwalin reassures him. Also, Jera and Ori go fishing!

"So, what is your measure of our newest travelling companion?" Thorin asked Dwalin. They were riding in the front of the group, far enough away from Jera that they wouldn't be overheard.  


"She may prove useful, but it is hard to say until she is tried." Dwalin replied. "Right now, all we have to judge her by is her own words"  


"And what do you think of them?" Thorin questioned.  


"I don't think she has any reason to be false." Dwalin said. "She likely wants to stay in our good graces, so she's not going to risk getting caught in a lie." He shrugged, doing his best to put his friend at ease. Thorin had enough on his mind without wondering about the woman. "She's only a bit of a nuisance, certainly not anyone I would call dangerous. And," he added, "if we camp near a river, perhaps we can put those fishing skills she talks about to good use." He wouldn't mind a good trout or perch; the fish he'd eaten back at the hobbit's home in the Shire had been very good indeed.  


As it turned out, they did find a fine clear river to camp by. Jera asked politely what she could do to help set up camp.  
"Nothing really." said Dwalin, working the chinch strap loose on his saddle. "But if you're serious about being useful, go and see about catching some fish." Jera actually broke into a smile at the prospect.  


"How many do we need?" she asked. Dwalin shrugged as he lifted the saddle from his pony's back.  


"Quite a few, I would say." he replied. "We Dwarves are a hungry lot." Jera's smile widened into toothy mirth.  


"Well, I'll do my best to prevent you all from starving, but if the fishing is bad there's little to be done for it." she replied. Tilting her head in a thoughtful manner, she asked "Can I take someone with? Might save time to have someone bring three or four back at a time instead of all at once."  


"Take Ori." Dwalin said, flapping a hand in her general direction. "And mind you don't drown him."  


"He won't even have to get into the water." Jera promised as she turned and left. Dwalin congratulated himself on a job well done; give her something useful to do, hopefully get some supper out of the arrangement and keep the annoying chatter to a minimum.  
++++++++++  
"Ori?" Jera tapped the young scribe on the shoulder lightly. He looked up from where he was taking notes in his book. "Would you like to come fishing with me? Things will go faster if I have someone to bring them back three and four at a time instead of all at once. And I probably should not be by myself if the current is very strong." Ori smiled in a very pleased manner.  


"I would be very happy to go fishing with you Jera." he said politely, closing his book and getting to his feet. They headed in the direction of the river; it wasn't very far actually. Still within eyesight unless they went up or down stream. Which, depending on how good the fishing was in any particular spot, they might. More important, however, were the many tall and slender trees growing along the bank. Perfect for fishing spears. Walking over to a group, she inspected several, discarding one after another as too big around, too long, slightly crooked...she allowed herself to smile at her criteria. It was a good thing Fili and Kili weren't around to ask her what she was looking for in a spear. She's never hear the end of it. Finally, she selected one that met her exacting demands and, with a few swift blows, chopped it down. Now for the hard part-sharpening one end into a barbed point. With an axe.  


"Hardly the proper tool for the job." she muttered to herself, sitting down in the sand and beginning to peel away the bark.  


"Pardon?" Ori asked polietly. Jera looked up from her task; the scribe had seated himself on the ground against a rock, book open on his lap, ink bottle close to hand.  


"Oh." said Jera. She was going to have to do something about her talking aloud. "I was just saying to myself that an axe isn't a very good tool for peeling and sharpening a branch into a spear. It will do, of course, but..."  


"Would a knife be better?" Ori interrupted eagerly. "You may borrow mine if you like." He drew a blade from a previously unnoticed sheath at his side. It was small but sturdy; more of a utility knife than a weapon. Laying down her axe, Jera clapped her hands in delight.  


"Oh that is just perfect!" she exclaimed. It was a minor thing really, but all the same it was nice to be able to handle something lighter than her axe for a change. "With this," she declared, taking the knife from him, "I shall be able to make a right proper spear and if there are fish in that river, we shall have them for supper."  
+++++++++++++++++  
Dwalin was not often wrong about anything. But, when he was, he readily admitted it. There was little point in being stubborn in the face of unquestionable truth. And, he thought as he munched happily on a nicely seasoned fish, he had definetly been wrong about Jera. At least in one respect. She had definetly proven useful, at least insofar as she could bring in fish. Her fishing meant that they didn't have to use up precious supplies immedietly. That might turn out to be a saving grace later in the journey. In the meantime, he would certainly enjoy eating as many fish as she could catch. He looked over in her direction. She was engaged in a lively conversation with Fili and Kili; judging by her stabbing gestures, she was telling them how to properly spear fish. He really did owe her thanks for such a tasty meal-at least the clap on the shoulder and nod he gave Bombur anyways. Getting to his feet, he made to head over, but stopped as he passed young Ori sketching in his book.  


"What're you drawing, if you don't mind my asking?" he inquired, looking over the scribe's shoulder. Ori turned to look at him and smiled before holding up his work for Dwalin's inspection.  


"Its Jera." he said as Dwalin took the book from him. It was indeed her on the page, rendered in bold black ink. Waist deep in the river, spear tip just beneath the water's surface. On the facing page was what looked to be a study of her facial expression in the river drawing; her brows were knit deeply in concentration. Up in one corner was a roughed out drawing of the head of her spear-a fragile but fierce looking thing with barbs on both sides. Below it was her axe, with its spiked head and broken off shaft. Dwalin carefully handed the book back to Ori with an appreciative nod.  


"You've a good eye." he said to the lad. "The big one of her with the spear...she looks like a coiled spring." Ori nodded.  


"She was." he said, as Dwalin came around to sit across from him. "She'd wade into the water and just _stand_ there. Completely motionless, like a statue. Spear point in the water, she said that was very important."  


"Why's that?" Dwalin asked, curiousity piqued.  


"She said that fish can feel when something breaks the surface of the water and will dart away from it." Ori replied. Dwalin nodded; that did make sense. "And then she'd strike, quick as a serpent. Then she's hoist her spear up from the water and there would be a thrashing fish spiked on the end of it." Ori's expression clearly said he thought this was something fascinating. Dwalin supposed he understood a little-the lad had doubtless led a fairly sheltered life, what with Dori mothering him and all-so someone spearing fish out of a river was new and interesting to him.


	8. After Supper Conversation...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jera proves interesting. And

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHMAIGAWD GUYZ!!! For some reason, this story died on me. I had some stuff done...but it disappeared from my hard drive after a virus corrupted the files. BUT I FOUND IT ON AN OLD FLASH DRIVE YEESSSS!

"You fancy her a bit, don't you?" Dwalin teased, smirking at the lad. Ori huffed in feigned annoyance.  


"Not a bit, really." he answered. Dwalin raised an eyebrow at this. If Ori's enthusiasm for Jera's skill at something as mundane as fishing was to be believed, he did indeed fancy her-probably more than a bit. Seeing his facial expression, Ori shook his head. "I find her fascinating, yes." he explained. "In much the same way you would a different type of axe. You would notice and appreciate the things that are different from all the axes that you are used to seeing all the time. Jera," he glanced in her direction, and Dwalin's eyes followed his gaze. Her tale of fish spearing was over with; now she and Fili were comparing weapons. The blonde brother had one of his small throwing axes out and was explaining something about it in great detail to Jera. Even from a distance, Dwalin could see the hallmarks of attentiveness on her part. Ori looked over at Dwalin and smiled. "Jera is different. I've been commissioned to draw ladies before. Young and old. Common and noble. She is...harder...than a great many that I have sketched."  


"Harder.." Dwalin mused. He wasn't well known for his perceptiveness, but Dwalin didn't think Ori meant harder in the sense of greater difficulty.  


"As a wolf is harder than a dog." Ori said with a nod. Well, that was something new to consider. Dwalin snuck another look at Jera; Fili had handed over his axe now and she was studying it closely. How many women would inspect a throwing axe? How many would even know what one was? Dwarvish women would, to be sure. But human women? Not many. Dwalin turned back to Ori.  


"You have a good eye." he repeated, getting to his feet. He meant for more than just for drawing.  


"Thank you." said Ori with a nod and an understanding smile.  


++++++++++++++++++++  


"Kili, I promise I am nothing special or interesting." Jera was saying as Dwalin walked up. She was sitting next to Bilbo; the two had bonded quickly after he'd come to her defense when she'd first arrived. They ate together, bedded down together and defended one another against the rest of the Company's teasing when the words became too sharp.  


"I never said you were." the younger Durin brother teased. "I merely wondered at the notion of a mother and her daughter living by themselves in the Wild for so long." He case a sidelong look at Fili and elbowed him in the ribs. "If human mothers are anything like Dwarvish mothers, they want their children married and grandchildren on the way as soon as possible."  


"Please, let't not bring up Mother and her desire for grandchildren." the blonde Dwarf groaned as Dwalin sat down next to him.  


"We lived in the Wild because it suited us." Jera said, an edge of annoyance creeping into her voice. Apparently this discussion had been going on for some time, and Kili had been badgering her persistently. "Mother never remarried after Father died for the same reason I never married in the first place. Neither of us found anyone we cared for."  


"But how would you ever find anyone when you're out in the Wild with just sheep for company?" Kili continued to press the issue.  


"Oh for...." Jera threw up her hands with an exasperated huff. "Fine. You've found me out. I am different and unusual. In the fact that once a month, by the light of the full moon, I turn into a ravening, gibbering monster. I sprout bats' wings and claws on my fingers and toes. I bite the heads of my victims clean off and drink the spouting blood directly from their necks." She shook her head. "I am what you see. No army is going to track us into the mountains and claim that I am their Lost Princess. No foreign ruler is going to ride up on a unicorn and declare I am their Exiled Daughter."  


"And if they did, more's the pity for us." interjected Dwalin. "I, for one, would be sad to see you go. On account of missing your fishing skills." Jera snorted, but there was laughter couched in the sound.  


"Glad I'm proving useful." she said, but it was said with a smile and there was no malice in her words. She seemed glad for the support.


End file.
